Stumbling through the dust of cremation bones I dream of rivers rolling wide and green and deep – time is an abstraction – you walk…
The Essence of T’AI CHICH’UAN The Literary Tradition(Translated and ed. by BenjaminPang Jeng Lo et alia) My copy is falling apart;frontispiece with Chinese writing,Preface, Introduction…
BILL OF LADING Contents received by Charon, Inc. for shipping via sea freight, for deliveryTo the nearest available port of the far shore, consigned to…
In the garden among flowersthe thick black ants make ecstatic highwaysover and into the sweet honeypot of cow-tongue peonies,the black-eyeds dip drunkenly into the foxgloves,all…
When I write to you, Hello,it’s marked with swollen anticipation,and I wonderabout your interpretation:did I sound too curt?too friendly? too tender?too insecure?And when I write to…
The electric piano comes in. It’s a Hohner Pianet.The keys go:Duh-Duh, Abm, Db/Ab,Duh-Duh, Abm7(b5), Db/Ab,Lloyd Loar’s Vivi-Tone Clavier.[1]Sharp staccato hits. Brighter, with less sustain.Did you…
I don’t rememberif we kept any plants. If we fussed over themlike new parents worried that the waterwasn’t enough or the sun. I remember a…
I remember the missionaries’ daughter Alice at Tullahasee,eating sofke, writing a Creek dictionary in her room,the stick she used to correct the wrong Mvskoke girl,teacher’s…
They had nothing in commonbesides being smart New Yorky jews,Carl was a creator and my motheran other… while laughing listeninghis 2000-year-old man spinningin shiny blackness…
an ironic name to give a butterfly one gets the distinct impression deposed, have been in the bloodiest of purges in whispers we cheer them on from the shadowy sidelines eagerly…
Note: This poem is best viewed on a Desktop Computer with widescreen. The week before he was bornI dreamt only in blue, like paint names the…
I liked the feeling of being knifed to piecesand sent bleeding down a hilllike earth torn in torrential rainsracing through an innocent village I might…
I never wanted a homenor a Lotus Sutra I am not a lotus eater a homeis a place to hanghistory floatingin etymologicalsoundfacts a privilegethat is created…
Take us ornately hanging girls composed of candles and scintillating light, as sacred as bael fruit. It is our wild-born nature to cling to the…
Blue light on dark rivers, blue notes floating in veils of wind down chasms of blue canyonswhose denouement issuesinto fields of tiny bluets limning the dawn. I…
The third in eight days. Penelope, how can a life be reduced to facts,and those so few? And used to compare youwith those who died…
I saw a woman peeling an orange at a traffic light and thought of you. She had the orange on top of the steering wheel,a small,…
Note: This poem is best viewed on a Desktop Computer with widescreen. December:the table’s sinkingin drinkable amnesia and your eyes are nobodiesfrenzied with potential. It is 2009….
I knew a man.He played guitar for change.I’d buy him this and that.So he wouldn’t betoo cold and hungry. I knew a man.Who informed me…
The Wall Street Journal // Sept. 20, 2020 The courthouse that calls to me is only five blocks from homebut I drive anyway and you are…